


Keeping Me Instead

by Joanne_Lupin



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, Drug Addiction, F/F, Falling In Love, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Meet-Cute, Panic Attacks, Past Drug Use, it's actually really cute i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:22:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25231564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joanne_Lupin/pseuds/Joanne_Lupin
Summary: In which Trixie:1. Meets2. Falls in love with3. Writes a song forKatya.
Relationships: Trixie Mattel/Katya Zamolodchikova
Comments: 4
Kudos: 79





	Keeping Me Instead

**Author's Note:**

> first off, if someone wrote a song for me, i'd straight-up have a heart attack, holy shit, the romance, the intimacy, holy fuck....
> 
> secondly, love writing fics where Character A has a Mental Health Emergency(tm) and Character B bursts in to save the day because wouldn't it be cool if mental illness had that much drama and conflama irl? i got anxiety out the ass, it's mostly boring as hell.
> 
> thirdly, there's def more to this world, in my mind. i have more answers in my head than are in this fic. also, there could be some smut somewhere up there. idk. then again, i abandon fics like they're Roxxy Andrews at a bus stop, so don't get your hopes up.
> 
> anyways, enjoy!

Trixie had decided that she would get married in the alley behind her apartment. The ceremony would involve herself, her future wife, an officiant, a witness, and whatever rats or pigeons decided to attend. She would wear an oversized hoodie with no bra. She wouldn't shave her legs. Most importantly, she would not wear any makeup. 

Trixie had decided this a few months into her career as a makeup artist, and her decision was only solidified by the shouts coming from behind her client’s door. 

She was tempted to wait until things calmed down, but weddings always ran behind-- plus, she was carrying her guitar case, as well as her work bag, and she desperately wanted to set them both down. She knocked.

A gold-clad pridesmaid answered the door. “Hello?”

“Hi, I’m Trixie, I’m doing Raja’s makeup today?”

“Oh, hi! Come on in!”

The sound of the door was enough to stop Raja's tirade. Trixie caught a glimpse of the blond girl they’d been berating before they pulled a physical and emotional 180 and came over to wrap Trixie in a warm hug.

“Hey, girl! You look great! You are a fucking superhero, you know that? Thank you so much for doing all this, you’re saving this wedding, I swear!” 

Trixie immediately recognized the over-complimentary tone of someone who was about to ask her to perform a miracle. Sure enough:

“One _teeny tiny_ thing-- would you be able to do my sister’s makeup, too?”

Raja gestured to the blond, who gave her a wide grin and a little wave, apparently unfazed by whatever chewing out she had just received. Trixie could easily tell what the fight was about; the woman had on a competent smokey eye and red lip, but it was accompanied by white foundation, stark contour, and patches of what Trixie really hoped was scab blood. 

“Um…” Trixie began.

“I know, I suck. I didn’t want to ask, but apparently, I can’t even trust Katya to do her makeup, so.”

The sister-- Katya-- rolled her eyes. “It’s a bit, Raja. I’ll do it normally, if you’re gonna be a pridezilla about it.”

“Nope. I cannot be worrying about you today. Either someone does your makeup for you, or you go barefaced.”

With a charming glint in her eye, Katya replied, “I am barefaced.” Trixie covered her mouth to reign in her laugh. (She hated her laugh; it sounded like a particularly annoying bird.)

Raja ignored Katya, turning back to Trixie. “Can you take care of her? Please? I’ll pay whatever you want.”

Trixie glanced at the clock. Raja was taking first look and couple’s photos with their bride in an hour, but the family pictures were about 45 minutes after that. If she kept it simple, she could make it work-- she just wouldn’t have time for a bit of extra practice before the ceremony, like she’d hoped. At least she’d walk out with some extra cash.

“Fine. Katya, I’m Trixie. Could you please wash your face?”

\--

Trixie was relieved to find that Katya was not nearly as uncooperative as she’d seemed. While Trixie did Raja’s makeup, Katya dutifully washed herself up, then sat patiently on the floor so another pridesmaid could braid her long hair into an elaborate design. Trixie found herself sneaking glance after glance of Katya tracing her fingers over the tattoos on her arm, stalling every so often as if the ink had taken her by surprise. 

The moment Raja approved of their look, Trixie ushered Katya into their seat. 

“Your smokey eye earlier was actually very nice. Do you want something like that?” Trixie asked, applying primer to Katya’s face.

Before she could answer, Raja interrupted. “Give her something softer. She doesn’t always need to look like a fucking vampire.”

Katya shrugged. “You heard ‘em. Soften me up, baby!”

Trixie knew enough to pretend not to hear the little bit of friction in Katya’s voice-- weddings always brought out some family tension, and Trixie figured that, if she was forced to take a side, it would be with whomever was paying her. 

“Soft, got it,” Trixie replied. Raja left for their photos, and Trixie murmured, so only Katya could hear, “I’ll keep that red lip, though.”

Relief swept over Katya’s face. Then it was back to that impish grin, and she mimicked Raja’s deep voice: “You’re a fucking superhero, girl.”

Trixie couldn’t help herself this time. Her squawk burst out of her, making some of the pridesmaids in the room jump. She slapped a hand over her mouth, muttering an apology.

Katya, meanwhile, looked thrilled. “That’s your laugh? I’m obsessed! You sound like a bird!”

Trixie didn’t know how to respond to that, so she busied herself with her work. 

“You play guitar?” Katya asked, undeterred. 

“Yeah, I’m the musical entertainment for tonight.”

“Ooh, multitalented! Where’d Raja find you?”

“They were a regular at the Starbucks where I used to work,” Trixie admitted. “I kept overhearing their wedding planning drama, so I decided to shoot my shot, you know, business-wise.”

“Make that money, bitch!” Katya replied approvingly. 

Trixie found that Katya was very easy to talk to. By the end of her makeover, Trixie had basically told Katya a condensed version of her life story-- growing up in Wisconsin, moving to Chicago the moment she got the chance, going to beauty school, dreaming of a country music career that never quite got off the ground, and navigating a dating scene that had expanded exponentially in the big city (and scared the shit out of her).

Only when she’d finished Katya’s makeup-- gold and warm browns to bring out those green eyes and a blood-red lip, like she’d promised-- did Trixie realize that Katya had barely said anything about herself. 

\--

The wedding was lovely. Thanks to Trixie, Raja was glowing, and their bride, Raven, who’d begged for a touch-up from her after the pictures, was stunning, too. There was one small hiccup in the ceremony, when Katya walked down the aisle with Trixie’s makeup and her gold bridesmaid dress-- as well as earrings that appeared to be made from doll hands. Raja, when they realized, was visibly furious. Trixie nearly broke a rib trying to keep her ugly laugh from disrupting the proceedings.

Afterwards, Trixie had scurried off to the reception hall so she could tune her guitar and warm up before the guests arrived. 

She was relieved that she was mostly busy for the night, alternating between performing live and playing DJ with her cracked, pink iPhone. She didn’t know anyone at the wedding besides Raja (and now, she guessed, Katya). Thankfully, her duties were enough to distract her from the painful awkwardness of scarfing down a vegetarian entree at the kids’ table in her minimal downtime.

Raja had told her that they had rented the reception hall until midnight. At 11:45, most of the guests had trickled out. Trixie had started playing only slow songs, indicating to everyone that the party was winding down. It was mostly couples left, it seemed. In the middle of the floor, the newlyweds were still dancing together, giggling like schoolchildren at their own conversation. Their contentment stirred up the wistfulness in Trixie’s heart.

“Life ain’t always such a bitch, huh?” Katya had appeared beside her, holding out a plate. “Did you get any cake? Here. You were great, by the way.”

Trixie had not, in fact, had any cake. When she took the plate, Katya beamed proudly. (Katya, Trixie noted, was not one for subtle facial expressions.) 

“Thanks. I love your earrings.”

“Ha! Did you see Raja’s face? They were _pissed_!”

“You know, no one asked me, but it seems like weddings would go a lot smoother if everyone gave less of a fuck.”

“Momma, you are _so! right!_ ” Katya punctuated the last two words with firm pats on Trixie’s wrist.

“Like, take a chill pill and have a party, that’s all,” Trixie added. Something about this remark must have affected Katya very strongly, because she held Trixie’s wrist and threw back her head, the laughter taking control of every one of her limbs.

“Oh, I’m telling them you said that! _Chill pill!_ ”

Trixie was confused. “Have you… have you not heard the phrase _chill pill_ before?”

Katya laughed harder. Trixie couldn’t fathom what was so funny, and she was too tired from wearing so many wedding-related hats all day to try to piece it together, so she enjoyed her cake and watched Katya laugh herself out.

“Hey, can I tell you something?” Katya said suddenly, righting herself in a fluid, dancerly motion. Before Trixie could respond, she continued: “You seem very cool and very pretty, and I’d really like to go out with you. On a date. If you’re into that.”

Her bluntness shocked Trixie, but it wasn’t unappreciated. Truth be told, Trixie had enjoyed talking to Katya earlier (and found her incredibly attractive), but knew that she’d never have had the balls to say something, would have let Katya slip away to become nothing more to her than midnight fantasy fodder. 

“I am into that. Very much.”

\--

Katya had taken Trixie bowling on their first date. If you’d asked Trixie beforehand to rank her top 5 worst date ideas, bowling would very much be on that list. But Katya had kept it a secret until they’d arrived, and by then, Trixie was enjoying her company too much to bail. 

Things that happened on their first date included:

1\. Katya gushing over the ugly bowling shoes they’d rented, which clashed horribly with her problematically patterned prairie dress.  
1.a. Trixie suggesting that they look for a pair at a thrift store, leading to her inadvertently planning their second date.

2\. Trixie picking a bright pink ball to match her aesthetic, even though the finger holes were too small, meaning that she had to throw the ball with both hands-- which wasn’t a great look, she thought.

3\. Both of them getting so wrapped up in their conversations between rounds that it took them two hours to finish a single game (which Katya won).  
3.a. When they actually did play, Trixie marveling at the way Katya moved, erratic but graceful, like her whole life was an uptempo dance routine.

4\. Trixie making Katya laugh so hard she almost fell off her slick plastic chair.

5\. Katya making Trixie laugh so hard that she repeatedly forgot to reign herself in, which she was sure was a nuisance for everyone around them, but she didn’t feel much like caring what they thought.

6\. Trixie finding out a few more things about Katya (like that she was adopted from Russia, that she taught yoga, that she didn’t drink, and that she was easily startled by loud noises), although it was still not near as much as Katya knew about her.

7\. Katya taking Trixie all the way back to her apartment, even though it was two stops out of her way, so she could give her a goodnight kiss at her doorstep.  
7.a. Trixie deciding to invite Katya in for a little more than a goodnight kiss.

\--

Trixie and Katya visited several different thrift and vintage shops on their second date. They didn’t find a pair of bowling shoes, but they did find several disgusting Hawaiian shirts (for Katya) and a vintage nightgown and a pair of incredible pink pumps (for Trixie). 

After they’d scoured every thrift store in the area, they took up residence at a nearby coffee shop and stayed there for the rest of the afternoon. 

At one point, a barista behind the counter loudly dropped a bag of coffee beans, causing Katya to practically hyperventilate. Without thinking, Trixie took her hand, letting Katya squeeze it hard enough for it to hurt, just a little. 

It was only their second date, and Trixie was fully aware of the deficit between what Katya knew about her and what she knew about Katya, but she was also aware that she caught feelings like her emotional immune system was compromised. So it hurt her to see the honest-to-god fear in those expressive green eyes, even if it seemed like a silly overreaction.

“You really don’t like loud noises, huh?” Trixie asked, once Katya had calmed down.

“No, I don’t.” 

Katya seemed like she wanted to say something else. When she didn’t, Trixie told her, “You can talk about it, if you want.”

“It’s rough,” Katya warned.

“Katya, I told you about the crush I had on my 6th grade health teacher.”

Katya snorted. “Trust me, it’s even rougher.”

“Impossible,” Trixie replied. “Seriously, though, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to get to know you, Katya.”

Katya sighed heavily. “I kind of like that you don’t know me,” she said, removing her hand from Trixie’s. “You know why I showed up to Raja’s wedding with zombie makeup? Because everyone there knew me.”

Trixie didn’t quite follow, but for once in her life, she had the presence of mind to shut her mouth and wait patiently for Katya to continue.

“I had a really bad year last year. I’ve always had really bad anxiety-- hence, easily startled-- but I thought I had it under control-- until I, you know, didn’t. I kind of went off the deep end, and I ended up…” Katya took a deep breath. Trixie wished they were still holding hands. After stealing herself, Katya finished: “I had to go to rehab.”

\--

Katya expected any number of things from Trixie after dropping that bombshell. She was ready for Trixie to politely make her escape, to ask tons of invasive questions, to scream at her and call her a liar. 

She did not expect Trixie to reach out for her hand again and say, “Okay. Thank you for telling me.”

Katya looked up. Trixie was right there with her, meeting her gaze, looking concerned, but not condescending. For the first time in a while, Katya felt _seen._

“You’re not--” Katya searched for the word. _Scared? Disgusted? Sorry for me?_

“I’m not. I’m just happy you told me.” Trixie’s warm smile changed into something a bit lighter as she said, “And thank god, cuz for our next date, I was gonna suggest a crack den.”

Katya lost it.

\--

“Okay, sorry if this is dumb, but I still don’t get it,” Trixie said as they were walking home. “Why the zombie makeup?”

“Oh! Well, so, all mine and Raja’s family, and also a lot of Raven’s family, know I went to rehab, and, you know, my family’s generally great, they were really supportive when Raja and I both came out, but they’re also horrible, horrible gossips. So I figured, give ‘em all something new to talk about.”

“Like that you’d been cast as an extra for The Walking Dead?”

Katya laughed. “Pretty much, yeah.”

\--

Alaska wasn’t picking up. Neither was Ginger. Katya knew Raja and Raven were on their honeymoon, which they’d decided to have a month after the wedding for reasons Katya worried were about her. 

She needed someone. She was all alone, and everything scared her, even herself. (Especially herself.)

She scrolled haphazardly through her contacts, her thumb landing on Trixie’s number. 

It wasn’t a good idea. They’d been on two more dates since Katya’s confession at the coffee shop, but still they were very new. Katya didn’t even know if they were _dating_ dating, or if Trixie wanted to be casual. She really liked Trixie, and was determined not to do anything to scare her off. This would definitely scare her off. 

What would she even tell her?

_Hey, Trixie! It’s Katya! I really wanted to use drugs tonight, but I didn’t, but I did go into a dissociative episode that has now turned into a panic attack, so, you know, six of one. Could you come over and hold me until I stop thinking about all the bad things I’m capable of doing to myself?_

Just thinking about thinking about said bad things, Katya’s panic squeezed tighter around her chest. 

She tried Alaska again, and then Ginger. 

She couldn’t be alone right now, she just couldn’t.

“Katya?” Trixie picked up on the third ring, sounding like she’d just woken up. “Are you okay? It’s three AM.”

Katya swore under her breath. She hadn’t known what time it was, just that it was dark. “Trixie?” Her voice sounded so small, so breathless, so weak. She hated it. “Can you come over?”

\--

Trixie arrived 20 minutes later. She hadn’t even bothered to change out of her nightgown before she’d rushed out of her apartment.

Katya had told Trixie that her door was unlocked, so she let herself in. She’d never been in Katya’s apartment before, and she wished her first time would have been under different circumstances. She didn’t have much time to take in the eccentric touches Katya had added to the small, cookie-cutter studio. 

Artificial light flooded the entirety of the apartment, revealing every little bit of mess, every torn piece of paper and overturned box.

Trixie turned to the bathroom, and her heart stopped.

Katya was a tiny, trembling ball on the floor of her tub, her legs tucked up inside her oversized T-shirt. Trixie’s eyes took a path from the floor, littered with ashy blond ringlets, to the scissors teetering precariously on the edge of the sink, to Katya’s hair, which was so short it was sticking up at odd angles all over her scalp. 

What hit Trixie hardest were Katya’s eyes. They were so expressive, all the time, and it was no different now. They were wide and scared and sad, and when they connected with Trixie’s, she felt like she was approaching a wild animal.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Trixie. No one else was picking up. I don’t know what happened. I was doing okay.” Katya started sobbing. “I was doing okay, and then I wasn’t, and I was so scared I was gonna fuck it all up.”

“Oh, Katya,” Trixie murmured. She knelt down next to the tub, making sure to place the scissors securely in the sink first, and took Katya awkwardly in her arms. “I’m here, shh, it’s okay, you’re okay. Can you stand? I’ll help.”

Slowly, she helped Katya to her feet and set her down on her bed. She covered Katya in the softest blanket she could find, and then wrapped herself tightly around her. She started humming lullabies, old church hymns, anything she could come up with to settle Katya’s nerves. 

Trixie didn’t know how long they sat there before Katya stirred. She looked tired, and still small, but heavy. 

“Thank you for coming. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“I’m glad you called me,” Trixie replied earnestly. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

“No,” Katya replied. But after a moment, she said, “Sometimes, it’s like I’m on autopilot or something. Or like, I see myself doing something, and I know, on some level, I’m doing it, but I don’t really connect the dots. And then I come out of it, and it’s scary, because I don’t know if I’ll do it again, and if I’ll do something worse.”

The words _something worse_ kicked up a storm of horrid thoughts in Trixie’s head. She held Katya tighter. 

Eventually, Katya decided she needed a shower. Trixie ordered her to stay in bed while she swept all the hair up off the floor and tucked the scissors out of sight. Katya showered, and Trixie made each of them a mug of tea and tidied up some of the mess in the rest of the apartment. 

Later, the two of them sat on Katya’s bed, sipping their tea. (“You’re a fucking superhero,” Katya had said when Trixie placed the mug in her hand.) After everything that had happened, Katya was fading fast, her eyelids drooping and her head leaning more and more on Trixie’s shoulder. 

“I could stay the night,” Trixie suggested, in a way she hoped said, _I need to stay the night._ Katya nodded sleepily.

Trixie got up to set their mugs in the sink and turn out the lights. Then she snuggled back into bed, lulled to sleep by Katya’s slow, steady breathing on her neck.

\--

Katya wasn’t there when Trixie woke up, hours later. She sat up, her heart pounding, but she immediately relaxed, feeling silly, when she realized Katya was right there in the doorway, holding two cups of iced coffee and a paper bag.

“Sorry! I didn’t want to wake you up, but I also wanted to get you breakfast, as a thank you!”

“ _I_ wanted to get breakfast for _you,_ ” Trixie pouted.

Katya tilted her head, confused, as she sat next to Trixie on the bed. “I’m the one who forced you out of your bed in the middle of the night.”

“You’re also the one who experienced a severe mental health crisis,” Trixie replied, accepting her cup. 

“I’m fine now. Or, I will be, once I’ve had coffee.”

“Katya...”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Katya repeated harshly. “And also, I don’t want you to feel like you have to go above and beyond for some weirdo just because you’ve been in her pants.”

Trixie was taken aback. “What do you mean by that?”

“It’s just that we haven’t had _The Conversation_ yet, and maybe you’re not in the mood for something serious, which I totally understand, but I really need you to know that I’m not, like, trying to make you feel sorry for me or take care of me or anything-- like, I’m not trying to force you to commit to being my support system. I’m not trying to take advantage.” Katya said all of this in a single breath.

There was a lot to unpack there. Trixie meant to address it. What came out was: 

“Do you not want to be serious?”

“No, I do,” Katya replied quickly. “Shit. Fuck. I’m saying this all wrong.”

“No, I think I get it.” Trixie stared across the room, looking at the stuffed raven on Katya’s bookshelf. “I feel anxious sometimes, too, you know? I can’t stop thinking about the worst-case scenario. And I always keep it to myself, because I’m always afraid of looking like I just want to… to be difficult, I guess. Overdramatic.”

“Yeah.” Katya took her hand. Trixie looked back at her, let herself fall into the green pools of her eyes. “I wish you didn’t feel like that,” Katya said.

“I wish you didn’t feel like that, either.” Trixie leaned over to kiss the top of Katya’s head. “Also, can this be our _Conversation_?”

Katya beamed at her. “Sure. Can we be girlfriends?”

“Absolutely.”

\--

Trixie was falling more in love with Katya every day.

Now that they were both on the same page, they saw a lot more of each other. They had dinner together at least twice a week, but usually more, as long as their schedules allowed it, and more often than not, dinner would turn into one of them waking up in the other’s bed. When they weren’t together, they were texting-- to the point that Kim, Trixie’s best friend, had instituted a new “no phones at the table” rule when they hung out. 

Trixie had helped Katya out with a few panic attacks since that night, but nothing near as serious. She always worried. What if something happened while Trixie was in the shower? In a meeting? At lunch with Kim? Even worse-- what if Katya still thought she couldn’t talk to her?

Communication had been better between the two of them, but Trixie knew from her own experience how easy it was to forget how much other people cared. 

She wished she knew Katya knew that she cared.

\--

Trixie forced her mind blank as she stomped towards Katya’s apartment. She focused only on the way the strap of her work bag dug into her shoulder, the smooth plastic in her hand. She knocked before she could start convincing herself not to.

Katya opened the door just enough to peek her head through, then threw it wide. It seemed to be a lazy Sunday for her-- she was dressed, but casually, and missing her smudgy eyeliner and signature red lip. Her ever-expressive face cycled quickly through displays of confusion, surprise, joy, and concern-- sharp flashes of emotion that were so at odds with the fluid way the rest of her body moved. 

"Hey! Hi! What's up? You look a little… frazzled." 

Trixie winced. This was stupid. She was stupid. Why did she think this was a good idea? She was damn near ready to chicken out, but the way her chest clenched at the sight of Katya's choppy, uneven locks reminded her why she was here. 

"I can't stay long. I have to go meet a client. But you were on the way, and I… I wanted to give you something."

(Technically speaking, it was on the way-- now that she'd walked two stops south so she could catch the train at Katya's station.)

Katya's face lit up, her eyes going the comforting kind of wide, the kind that turns them into bottle green stained glass windows. "A present?! Gimme!" 

"Here," Trixie said, grabbing Katya's hand and closing it around the flash drive. Katya examined it. 

"Oh cool, I can put porn on here."

Trixie barked out a strained, nervous laugh. "Bold of you to assume it doesn't already have porn on it."

Katya smirked. "Okay, then. If you really can't stick around, I think I'd like a little privacy, now…" 

She jokingly waved her hand, ushering Trixie out. Trixie grabbed her wrist. "Wait!" She took a deep, steadying breath. "I just-- I wanted you to know that you can always call me. Always. But sometimes I’ll be, like, with a client or whatever. So I wanted to give you something to show you that I’m-- you know, I’m still there. And you could listen to it the next time you, um-- you know, get bad."

"Trixie…" 

"I don't know if it'll even make you feel any better, but I figured-- I just, I hope it helps. I want to help. I'm happy to. Katya, I--” Trixie broke off. 

_I love you._

She wanted to say it, but the words didn’t leave her mouth. So she said the next best thing: “I wrote it for you.”

"I'm sure it's perfect, then."

Trixie locked onto those Chicago River eyes, anchored herself to the affection they betrayed. She relaxed her shoulders, and caught the slight, sympathetic release in Katya's spine. "Listen to it. Tell me what you think. I really do need to get going, but… yeah. I just want to… yeah."

Katya kissed her. Trixie melted, even though the unfairness prickled at the nape of her neck. She was there to offer Katya some comfort-- why did she need Katya to comfort her?

"Thanks, Trix. I can't wait to listen." A beat, a shift in the air. Then: "Now go on, Momma! Make that flash drive money!" (Katya slipped so easily between joking and tenderness. Trixie always felt like she was missing a step when she tried it.)

Trixie laughed as Katya reached around and swatted her ass. "Honey, I'll keep you rolling in flash drives, if that's what you want! Gigabytes out the wazoo, honey!"

“Is that where I’m supposed to put this?”

Trixie yelped. She covered her mouth with her hands, but it wasn’t quick enough for Katya’s neighbor across the hall, who popped his head out of his door to eye them grumpily.

“We’re sorry! We’re sorry! She’s going to fuck off now, sorry!”

“I am!”

The neighbor grunted and retreated into his apartment, slamming the door behind him.

Katya kissed Trixie on the cheek. “Dinner tomorrow?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

\--

Katya listened to the track as soon as Trixie left. Then she listened again. Then she called Trixie.

“Katya!” she whispered. “I’m on the train. What’s up? Did you listen to it?”

Only after dialing did Katya realize that she was at a loss for words. Also, that she was crying, if her sniffle and undignified whimper were anything to go by. 

"Oh! Oh, Katya, what's the matter?"

Katya thought: _I don't have the words to tell you what this means to me. I don't know if I'll ever be able to tell you. I've never felt so loved._

Katya said: "Thank you."

\--

Sometimes, when Katya was on the train and she got startled, she couldn’t calm down. There were so many people, and the train shook, and it was always too loud and too bright. She’d have to hop off at the closest station to gather herself over a cigarette. Today, she was already running late, and she didn’t have any fucking time, which only made her more anxious. With trembling hands, she started to text Trixie, but then she remembered the worst part: Trixie was in meetings with clients all day.

Katya wanted Trixie. She just wanted to hear her voice. Trixie’s voice always helped. 

Clumsily, Katya found the track she was looking for. She closed her eyes, used the song to help measure her breaths.

_Oh soldier, take your time  
No one said the words all have to rhyme, and if they do it's fine  
And even if they don't, no one needs to know  
Woah woah soldier, you gotta let things go_

She played the song twice through to calm her down, and twice more because she liked it. 

She thought about texting Trixie to tell her that her song worked. She decided not to; there would be plenty of time to tell her at dinner that evening.


End file.
